


God is Gonna Cut You Down

by TheLadyKeira



Series: Freedom [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Ancient History, Angel Wings, Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Blood and Gore, Comedy, Explicit Language, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied Sexual Content, Interlude, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Other, Pre-Slash, Pride Parades, References to Drugs, Religion, Religious Fanaticism, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Revenge, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29448192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyKeira/pseuds/TheLadyKeira
Summary: In this much-requested interlude following the events ofPride Goeth Before a Fall(part 1 of this series), Gabriel arrives at the site of Castiel's distress call to encounter the real enemy: homophobic religious protestors. The Messenger of God definitely has a message for them!
Relationships: Castiel & Gabriel (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Freedom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163027
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	God is Gonna Cut You Down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DOOMCATS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DOOMCATS/gifts).



> Thank you all so much for the kind comments and kudos on Part 1. I'm excited to continue the story in Part 2, as Gabriel gives some homophobic monsters a much-needed ass kicking. This series will be ongoing, chronicling the adventures of Castiel, his new BFF Charlie, and their other supportive friends as the Angel makes a plan to court Dean and win his heart.

Gabriel  materialized in the  spot  where Castiel had prayed to him.  H e  hadn’t r eally understood what  Castiel was talking about with the whole “evil blasphemers” thing. B ut he had a soft spot for Cassie, so he decided to drop by and  take a look . Either it was something human and innocuous and  Castiel had misunderstood it because he was Castiel ,  meaning Gabriel could torment him with it for  e ternity,  or it  actually  was something  bad and  the Strategist had sniffed it out. Probably num ber one, but both had the prospect of being  amusing .  T easing his little brother never got old.

The Archangel  strolled out to the end of the alleyway and froze in happy shock at the bustling tableaux of  decadence before him . Oh shit, this was fantastic ! There was  some kind of raucous festival happening. He hadn’t been to a party like this in ages . It looked like a  B acchanal , b ut the Greeks weren’t that much fun anymore. Beltane? No, that one had  big ass fires.  Wait, w as it Saturnalia? Wasn’t that in the winter? 

Gabriel was immediately seduced by the  massive chaos energy. He fell completely and utterly in love with this town. Wait, w here was he? Baltimore? Really? Ok, whatever, this was too good to care. He sniffed  like a connoisseur as t he heady scents of sin wafted  by : b ooze , perfume , tobacco , suntan lotion,  hairspray,  sweet fried food ,  cloves, and some other delightful things,  crowned with just a touch of rot . His favorite smell. If he had a Heaven, this would be  what it smelled like.

A cloud of delicious debauchery eddied around the whole scene. Booze tents vied with t-shirt m erchants and food stands for attention.  Competing streams of music from the bars and  stoops gelled into a constant pulsing dance beat.  O ver-the-top decorations  adorned everything - rainbow striped flags , giant  banners in gaudy color combinations , a sea of balloons . Every surface had glitter on it , sparking in the afternoon sun . Someone had a bubble machine going and holy shit was that an ice luge? 

T he weather was hot and so were the people. Oh, Gabriel was in love... He was  swept up in a sea of dancin g, laughing, drinking, hugging huma nity in a thousand shades and styles , and it was glorious. M agnificent  drag queens were  holding court right on the corner , with their towering heels and flowing wigs.  He loved drag queens, they reminded him of Alexandria back in the day, and that had been a fun town. Blessing them with a thought to keep their makeup from melting, the Archangel scanned the rest of the crowd. 

Gabriel made a habit of not keeping his Grace-assisted senses turned up to 11 all the time.  T hey were a pain in the ass that  cramped his style with  day-ruining bullshit lik e other angels finding  him and prayers . But a quick flip of that switch  enough to  pinpoint what  Castiel  was talking about . A well of hateful energy stinking up the joint like a rotten spot in an apple :  self-righteous pricks who  were using religion to do their dirty work ,  to  make these people  feel judged and hated because of God .  Yeah, that had to get shut the fuck down immediately. There was no way he was letting some mouth-breathers harsh the vibe of a clearly awesome holiday. Not on his watch.

Ok, work and then play. But really, wasn’t fucking with assholes like that  play anyway?  Maybe he ’ d turn them into ducks . Or peacocks, that would be funny.  Ooh, flamingos!  Conjuring up giant gold Elvis sunglasses, a  glittery  red feather boa, and a huge light-up hurricane glass full of his favorite mead  sporting a dozen fruit spears and tiny umbrellas , the Archangel started making his way through the revelers toward the knot of nastiness. 

“O o ps. Sorry. Hello, Gorgeous...”as he  wended h is way through the  crowd, Gabriel allowed his Grace to just simmer around him a bit . Everyone’s drink refilled.  A knee stopped hurting here , an anxiety surge was soothed there , and he was  absolutely not letting that cutie in the purple platform boots sprain an ankle.  Sipping on  his  mead , the Archangel was sorely tempted to stop and explore some of the more interesting  looking groups as he passed by.  Duty called though.

Somehow, the  Gabriel was draped in shiny plastic beads and he’d acquired a flower crown. He accepted a small cloth rainbow flag from someone handing them out and tucked it behind his ear.  There was definitely some kind of symbolism with the flags and the color combinations. He ’d just have to  have it explained to him, in great detail, by several of these  folks. Like that luscious young thing dressed up like a cross between  Marie Antoinette and a Cupid...

Then he got a good look at the  rotten fruit that Castiel had asked him to take care  of, and  Gabriel  started laughing. He was going to have to get baby bro a present. This might be the best day ever.  Not only did  Castiel lead him to his favorite kind of party,  but he’d also led him to exactly the kind of self-righteous assholes he liked taking down a peg. It really was a holiday! Maybe he’d send him a fruit basket. Or Dean Winchester tied up  in  a plaid bow. Hell, why not  Dean Winchester IN a fruit basket tied up with a plaid bow and an apple stuffed in his mouth ?

Gabriel took a moment to savor this occasion, feasting his eyes on the “blasphemers” . What a bunch of douc h ebags.  Two men and two women surrounded by a miasma of hate. One of the men had a microphone and an amplifier . Another one had a bullhorn that he was using to preach at pa ssersby. The women were waving around signs that read “God Hates Fags” and  “ Gays Are Going to Hell” . The group was clearly protesting something, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. This was a queer festival. Even better!

The asshole with the microphone was reading the Bible loudly.  Which always annoyed him , because everything was inevitably wrong. Humans of that era hadn’t been much different than humans of this one, they just hadn’t managed to twist a whole bunch of legends into a  worldwide system of oppress ion yet.  Although  Gabriel was alwa ys amused by how serious and badass it ma d e him sound, especially with the whole birth of  Jesus  thing. However, it left out some of the best parts. Lik e when Mary threw a pitcher at his head .  She was not filled with tidings of comfort and joy , only morning sickness. 

“Sinners! God commands you to repent! Panderers! Phi landerers! Satanists!”  The  preacher with the bullhorn screamed,  knock ing the Archangel out of his reverie . He could have just snapped away the stupid signs, shorted out the bible reader's  amplifier and got back to this clearly kick-ass party, but this motherfucker was  out here  claiming to be the  speaking for God .  No way Jose. Gabriel spoke for his Father,  even if he didn’t feel like doing it anymore and hadn’t in  millennia .  That didn’t  fucking matter, it was HIS job, not some cornfed mud monkey in Wal Mart khakis .

He stepped up to the  guy with the mic and swept his gaze over the others.  “ Okay, that’s enough of this bullshit. Y ou  chucklefucks are ruining a kick-ass party.  G rab your shit and  scurry back under whatever rock you crawled out from under. Now go on.  Git . Vamoose.” Gabriel made shooing motions.

Of course, they totally ignored him. The women kept shaking their signs, chanting hateful bullshit. Microphone  g uy kept reading out loud from his Bible,  his grating  voice full of tinny  reverb  from the cheap amplifier . But Gabriel did catch the  eye of the  b ullhorn  g uy, who turned his attention (and his bullhorn) on him. Game time. 

“ Repent  your evil oh  man ! The Lord will cut you down  in this the hour of your greatest  sin unless you fall  up on your knees  to beg his forgiveness and be Saved!” proclaimed  the bullhorn man,  pointing at Gabriel and w aving his finger.

Gabriel looked up from stirring his drink with a giant crazy straw . “Oh, shit, you were talking to me?” the Archangel looked around dramatically,  clutching a hand to his chest in feigned shock.  “ You said man, and I’m not a man. Sorry. Oh h ey, s ince we’re on the subject of sinning \- one of my favorites !”, he  smile d conspiratorially at  the handsome tall brunet  man in skinny jeans that just stopped next to him and gestured to the sign listing  the sins these folks were apparently committing . “D o I get one point per category for th e sins on her sign o r is it one point per incident ? Because  I don’t know if human math g oes up that high ...” He shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head, waiting . 

“You take pride in your sins like your master, Lucifer?  Repent and be healed of your evil, or you will be cast down to the Pit , damned to spend eternity in HELL!’ ” roars  the preacher with his bullhorn held high, gesturing wildly.

“ Oh, you just had to bring him into it, didn’t you?  It’s always Lucifer, Lucifer , LUCIFER with you people ! Well guess what, buddy.  Lucifer didn’t  teach humanity anything . I  DID ! ” The  severely peeved Archangel yelled ,  pointing furiously at the sign with the list of  sins. He began ticking them off on his fingers as he ranted.  “ Who taught the  Egyptians how to have orgies?  Me . Who taught the  Mesopotamians to make beer?  Also me. Who showed the Mayans the good mushrooms? This guy right here. But no, Lucifer gets all the credit!”

“God will strike you down for your blasphemy, sinner!  Y ou will be judged an d punished by His mighty wrath for your insolence, then you will learn to fear Him! ” the bullhorn man’s eyes were actually bulging by this point , which cracked Gabriel up. The dude looked like a tree frog. 

T he Archangel t ook a step toward  the crotchety bullhorn guy , as the small crowd they’d gathered murmured and laughed .  That old Grace razzle-dazzle did it every time. He’d always been a  rock star like that ; he couldn’t help it . Lucifer was whiny, Michael was sanctimonious,  Raphael was petty, and Gabriel was a  show off . He loved a  nice, big , well-lubricated crowd – in more ways than one.  But unlike this dick,  Gabriel  never need ed a bullhorn to be heard .  His sardonic voice cut through the din like a hot knife through butter. 

“Yeah, buddy, that’s not  gonna happen. ”  Gabriel shook his head . “Pops went out for cigarettes a couple  of thousand years ago and no one’s seen him since .  Look, l et’s not do this today.  I’ll give you guys like 30 more seconds to get gone while I finish this drink , but then it’s no more Mr. Nice Guy, capiche? ”  The Archangel loudly rattled the ice in his absurdly large  h urricane cup. 

“Blasphemer! Fornicator!  How dare you  reject the Word of the Lord who is your God and Master! Men shall not lay with men as if they were women! It is an abomination. Repent, or  the Lord will strike you down in the hour of your greatest deceit upon his creation.” T he bullhorn guy was practically  frothing at the mouth, screaming at Gabriel. This was so much fun. 

“You’ve got me there , b ucko ; I am a fornicator. I’ve been fornicating all over this rock and several other s , for  millennia . But  this is  definitely not my hour of  greatest  deceit, boo. No s iree Bob,  mmm-hmmm,  not even close . T hat was escaping the Heavenly Host and  hooking up with my Pagan peeps,  imbibing and  fornicating like it was my job . B ut then my idiot brothers  decided to start the Apocalypse,  my kid brother fell in love with a h unter , and everything went sideways. ”  He shrugs theatrically. “Eh, family. What can you do?”

“S inner!  Blasphemer!  REPENT!.” roars the preacher, shaking his bullhorn in his frenzy.  “Or y ou will burn in HELL! ”

“ Dad dammit, I really didn’t want to have to do this. I’m at a great party, I’m definitely getting laid, and I’m about to get this whole city epically hammered.  I hate  wasting time that I could be spending drinking and fornicating because I have to do Heaven  shit but  here we are. .. Simple motherfuckers...” 

He took one last giant slurp out of the cup, rattling the ice again. Turning, he spots an attractive young woman nearby, all short shorts and coffee skin and shining curls. “Well hello, nurse! Can you hold this for me a sec?” Gabriel shoves the absurd glass into her hand. “Thanks, cutie. I’m just  gonna go kick this guy’s ass, and then we should get to know each other a little bit, huh? Oh, this too, wouldn’t want that getting messed up.” he drops his signature wink and smile on her as he ceremoniously removes  the flower crown and places on her head.

“Okay, my drink’s empty. No more Mr. Nice Guy.” The Archangel  turns back to the four  assholes in front of him and snaps his fingers . 

The air stills,  the crowd noise stops,  and life  freezes as  Gabriel press es pause on the universe. The only beings who can still move are the Archangel and the four jackasses  trapped in a bubble outside of time with him .  He  points his finger at the amplifier. Sparks and smoke puff up as he shorts it out. He waves his hand, and the signs and the bullhorn disappear.  The women gasp in shock.  The guy with the mic finally stops reading the Bible aloud and looks around wildly.

“You want the real Word of God , you ignorant prick? Straight from the horse’s mouth...or Archangel’s?”  Gabriel takes a step toward the preacher . H is eyes start to glow as golden ligh t  begins gathering around him.

“My Father does not give one single shit what anyone does with any of their parts. Never has, never will. But you know what does piss him  off? Taking His name in vain. He even wrote it down ! You know why? To stop  l ittle men with little minds like you from spreading lies in  His name to make them selves feel bi g. But you  didn’t listen. ” Gabriel says seriously, dropping his jovial mask  as he takes another step forward.

Champagne- hued e ffervescent light swirls around him , like iron filings drawn to a magnet. G reat loops and whorls of  honey-colored  radiance coalesce at  his back. His next  step forward isn’t on the ground –  it's in the air . Darker caramel-shades blend  into the mix, forming robes of light .  His entire form seems taller, thinner, limned in gold . W hite-hot Grace light  crackl es around him. 

The four  humans are shocked into silence and awe.  The preacher is frozen in place from shock, upright but  unmoving, opening and closing his mouth soundlessly like a fish.  The two women cling to each other, crying and screaming .  The man who was reading the Bible falls to his knees, overcome , mindlessly chittering prayers and snatches of scripture . All four of them try to cover their eyes as the light builds from a dull candle to a bright summer sun.  But their protestations come too late, and Gabriel has no intention of being merciful .

The Archangel begins to speak. His tone is very different than it was a few minutes ago. Deeper , louder , scarier, without the patina of fun and sarcasm tha t it normally h ad. This wasn’t Gabe – this was The Archangel Gabriel, and he was pissed.

“You don’t speak for my Father,  F alse  P rophet. I do.”  His words are laced with power, making the humans clutch at their heads as their ears begin to bleed. The wind kicks up. The skies darken. The A rchangel continues to rise on  a vortex of shi mmering light in shades of gold . “I am the Archangel Gabriel, the Messenger of God. My Father  doesn’t send people like you to pass judgment on people like me.  He passes judgment on people like you and sends people like me to deliver it.  And I will deliver it. ” 

The light grows brighter as the Archangel’s six mighty wings come into focus with a neon glow. The Grace light in his eye s flares as he throws his head back, opened his mouth, and sounds his Trumpet:  one mighty note in his True Voice.

The humans don’t just drop dead, or even disintegrate. They shatter like crystal in the presence of an opera singer,  explod ing i n a fine red mist . The blood fog stills as the  Archangel floats back down to earth, the light fading away until it’s just Gabriel again,  freshly dressed , red feather boa askew.

“ Thpppbt Shit. Ugh. Fuck .” he exclaims, spitting out feather s as the sparkly boa gets caught around his mouth.  Gabriel glances up at the blood mis t. “ Oh, that is so nasty.  I forgot about that part.” he snaps, eliminati ng the cloud .  “Can’t have all that blasphemer blood ruining my swanky outfit. ” He brushes himself off , settling his bead necklaces back in place. 

“Okay, so let’s just make it so that none of these people even remember this happening. I ’ll let ‘ em keep thinking that I’m awesome though because I am...” he mutters  as he looks around for any other evidence of the assholes that he smote. He snaps his fingers again, and everything comes back to life,  just as it was before, except without the bigots or any sense of their presence. 

Instead, A shack that looks like it’s always been there appears. It’s done up like an incredibly cheesy tiki bar, complete w ith a thatched roo f,  palm trees, and brightly colored parrots flying around . Tables made from barrels and wooden stools start filling up with people who are somehow  inescapably attracted to them .  Gorgeous bikini clad servers of every variety are handing out trays of shots, and  a trio of muscular hotties are  playing drum s, oiled pecs glistening in the sun .

The Archangel turns to the woman holding his glass.  “So, how about we get another drink, hmm?  Oh, you’re here with your friend? Bring her too. Or him, or them, I’m an equal opportunity kind of guy . ” he says with his most charming smile, hand at her lower back to escort her through the crowd to a suddenly empty table .

“Tell me more about this holiday...”


End file.
